” For the moment her aunt could not think of any reply to this counterstroke, and Ann Veronica followed up her advantage by a sudden inquiry about her abandoned boots. It could not go on much longer, her luck. Her father—man of rock—had never needed her, whereas Hoddy, even if he did not love her, would always be needing her. She’s naïve, and yet uncannily shrewd at times, and you daren’t rely on anything she says. The moment she entered the room and he rose, she felt that she was immediately consigned to the circle of strangers; and it emptied her heart of its joy and filled it with diffidence. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait.
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